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My account is overdrawn. My car slid down the hill. I'm givin' up, i've got no more to give. My beagle bit the Vet and my daughter's on the pill. And my Ficus plant has lost it's will to live.
I owe Mastercharge my life. I've got adolescent skin. My doctor says i can't use any salt. My waist is getting thick but my hair is getting thin. And my house is on the San Andreas fault.
I Need Your Help, Barry Manilow. I'm miserable and i don't know what to do. Sing me a song. Sing it sad and low. No one knows how to suffer quite like you.
Recitation: "Hello, Mandy? It's me. I'm here at the Copa. You know, the Copacabana. I know i don't write the songs that make the whole world sing but i do know one thing, Mandy. I can't smile without you. Forget Lola. Remember that weekend in New England? I thought then that this could be the magic at last. Now here i am... tryin' to get the feelin' again!"
I Need Your Help, Barry Manilow. I'm all alone and sitting on a shelf. Sing me a song. Sing it sad and low. I feel like feeling sorry for myself.
I Need Your Help, Barry Manilow. Your songs can really comfort thee unlucky. Sing me a song. Sing it sad and low. I wish i didn't have to feel so yukky.
I wish i didn't have to feel... so yukky!
(Horn blows and the drums pound in a climatic power ballad finish in the tradition of the great Barry Manilow)
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